


Backseat Lovin'

by ourcrashdownblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Attempt at Humor, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Concussed Dean Winchester, Cuddly Dean Winchester, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Or at least an, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Sam Winchester, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 15, Sex in/on the Impala (Supernatural), Sexual Humor, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourcrashdownblue/pseuds/ourcrashdownblue
Summary: When Dean gets knocked out on a hunt, and Sam gets a broken arm, the task of carrying the older Winchester back to the Impala lands squarely on Cas's very human shoulders.This is a re-write of a story I posted to this site (“Backseat Squeezin’”) a little over two years ago.  I hope ya'll enjoy the facelift :)
Relationships: Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 186





	Backseat Lovin'

**Author's Note:**

> I reserve NO rights to any of the Supernatural characters.

Peering down at Dean’s slumped body and slackened features, Castiel did minor calculations in his head to decide how best to do this. It was clear that Dean would be unconscious for a relatively long while. Whether the sedative the strawberry-blond vampire had managed to force into Dean’s mouth--shortly before the ex-angel severed her head from her shoulders--had supernatural properties or not made little difference in their current situation. Dean was still alive, that much was for sure, but that was the extent of their knowledge. Whatever it was they’d ‘roofied’ Dean with, they wouldn’t be able to find any conclusive remedies until they were back in the safety of the bunker. Castiel once again felt the ache of guilt in the pit of his stomach that he could no longer cleanse the oldest Winchester of his affflictions like he’d done countless times before. He hated being useless like this and he also hated the way human emotions sometimes felt so... _ physical _ . 

Castiel did, however, thank the universe for small graces since they’d at least managed to kill off the rest of the nest’s vampires, even with Dean unconscious on the floor. But the final creature that Sam had tackled to the ground had not gone down without a fight. A resounding crack from Sam’s left ulna and a wet scream from the younger man meant that the job of carrying Dean’s limp body back to the Impala rested solely on Castiel’s shoulders--which might be where Dean would have to rest after all. Sam was still crouched down by Dean’s body checking his pulse and his breathing once again. Sure that his brother was okay, Sam let out a heavy sigh and checked the bash that Dean had sustained when he’d passed out and fallen. It had stopped bleeding which was a good sign. 

The old floorboards of the cabin they’d just vanquished the vampires in gave a whining creak as Sam stood back up to his full height. Castiel helped support the youngest Winchester with a firm hand on his uninjured arm. 

“Thick skull,” Sam muttered with a humorless laugh when he looked back down at his brother. Though Castiel still had much to learn about human facial expressions and the emotions they were meant to convey, he could read the brothers’ expressions the easiest. By the look on Sam’s face, Castiel gathered that Dean’s injury was probably minor and wouldn’t keep the hunter ‘out of the game’ for long.

Castiel had somewhat of a plan for how best to lift the hunter, but he wasn’t going to be certain of anything until he tried. He squatted down much the same way Sam had and scanned his eyes over Dean. It was more of an instinct than a conscious thought when he raked his fingers through the oldest Winchester’s hair. It soothed Castiel to comfort Dean, even if the hunter probably wasn’t even aware he was being comforted. And though that hardly made sense in Castiel’s mind, he still felt warmth at the contact. The need had never arisen for him to hold Dean in any fashion (except when he’d raised him from Hell), and the very notion made something equally warm clench beneath his ribcage. That had happened frequently in Dean’s company and was starting to alarm Castiel slightly. He’d have to ask Sam about the various heart conditions the sensation may be a symptom of.

Castiel let out a calming exhale and focused on the task at hand, “I suppose I should...just pick him…?” His thick voice cracked in the silence of the room.

Castiel bent over the hunter, and crossed Dean’s sleep-heavy arms over his chest so he rather resembled a mummy about to be placed in its tomb. Next, the ex-angel brought Dean’s bowed legs together, using the arm not wrapped around Dean’s shoulders to cup under the hunter’s knees. The rough denim felt familiar and warm but Castiel tried to avoid the distracting observation, he didn’t want to accidentally cause the hunter additional harm simply because a stray thought about caressing the hunter’s leg got in his way. 

Then came a new problem: Dean’s head. It rolled of its own accord and Castiel was unsure if human heads could be injured from jerky movement. He looked over his friend’s face as he deliberated, but Dean’s features started to distract him. Dean looked to be more at peace than the ex-angel had seen in a long time. Perhaps he’d never seen the hunter this relaxed, come to think of it. Selfishly, he took a moment to do his own assessment of Dean’s vitals at such close range. Castiel could hear the oldest Winchester’s soft breath, and felt the light flutter of his pulse when he gently pressed two fingers to the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean was warm and soft under Castiel’s fingers. 

“You about ready, Cas? This doesn’t exactly tickle,” Castiel could hear the tightness Sam’s voice had from his pain, and quickly resumed the task at hand.

Without his angelic strength it was quite an ordeal to lift Dean, and it took two tries. His knees felt weak as he finally pulled the hunter up into his arms with a strained groan. In an effort to help Castiel get a firm hold on Dean, Sam tucked Dean’s lolling head into the crook of the ex-angel’s neck with the man’s small wound facing out. Sam muttered something to the effect of hoping that if his brother’s head could stay relatively still that would lessen any damage. The younger Winchseter stepped back and looked the two up and down. There was an odd furrow in Sam’s brow that Cas was unsure how to interpret. And the fact Sam had a small smile pulling at his lips despite his broken appendage only served to confuse the ex-angel even more.

“What do you find amusing, Sam?” Castiel asked earnestly.

“Heh,” Sam huffed a laugh but winced when the movement seemed to jostle his arm, “Nothing, buddy. He’s just, um, totally not going to like that he was carried--bridal style, too. Come on. Let’s just get outta here.”

Castiel glanced down at the hunter in his arms once again and felt heat in his cheeks as he suddenly became aware of Dean lightly breathing on his neck. He felt the still-unnerving sensation of his tiny arrector pili muscles contracting to cause bumps that rippled all along his arms. However, he had to admit that the feeling wasn’t unpleasant, just strange.

“Indeed. Dean is not light,” Though, he was lighter than Castiel had assumed. Perhaps that was just an angelic side effect, or maybe carrying Dean just felt like less work than he’d expected.

Sam led them out of the slovenly-kept cabin that had served as the nest’s hideout. Cas stumbled here and there as he tried to keep pace with Sam. He tried his hardest to not jostle Dean’s head injury too much, frequently asking Sam to nestle the older Winchester’s skull back into Castiel’s neck whenever it would loll away. For some reason, the warmth at Dean’s crown was also soothing to the ex-angel. It was a wonder Castiel had not become distracted enough to drop Dean yet with all these odd sensations buzzing through him. Ultimately, though, he was surprised how well he was able to keep the hunter from falling. Sam constantly checked behind him as he cleared their path with his good arm to be sure that Cas kept up and every time he did the sight of his brother in such a vulnerable position seemed to startle the younger man.

It was only a handful of miles from the cabin to where they’d hidden the Impala, but Castiel’s calf muscles seemed to ache more with every yard. He felt shame trickle into his veins whenever his slowed pace caught Sam’s attention and was made to sit down on haphazard logs and catch his breath. He didn’t want to endanger Dean, though, over his pride so he kept any protests to himself. In any case, everytime they rested, Sam had to help Casitel sit with the older Winchester cradled in his lap. This act soothed him as well, another reason Castiel found himself holding back any protests.

Sam grew more concerned the longer Dean went without giving some signs of resurfacing. And though Castiel was not as familiar with the care and treatment of human injuries as the younger Winchester, Sam’s worry made Castiel worry. They couldn’t do much, though, but try to pat the man’s face to wake him up whenever they stopped. Castiel just hoped that Dean’s unconscious state wasn’t due to any sort of dark magic or mysticism--this was yet another reason that they needed to get back to the bunker ‘ASAP’.

After rounding a patch of maple trees nearly fourty minutes later, their eyes finally saw the sleek black frame that filled them both with relief. Castiel waddled--that was the most apt description at this point--over to the Impala, starting and stopping a few times before he was able to squeeze both himself and the hunter into the backseat. Sam hopped into the driver’s seat, and slammed the door. Castiel could see that Sam’s anxiety over Dean was edging into panic as the younger Winchester scrambled to start the car before coming to an abrupt halt. Sam turned in his seat to face the angel.

“Uh, Cas,” Castiel had been watching Sam’s movements and continued to attribute his uneasiness to Dean, that was, until he said, “in his right-hand jacket are the keys...can you fish them out?”

Castiel looked down at the hunter. Since jostling to get in the car, Dean’s body had leaned into Cas so that his chest was flush with the ex-angel’s. Castiel sighed and shoved a hand between them. Sam’s lack of eye contact made it seem like there was something odd about Castiel going through the items in Dean’s pockets, but Castiel scrounged through Dean’s things all the time. Not only had Dean often found it amusing and often smirked when Castiel marvelled at the ingenuity behind an electric shaver, but it often made Castiel feel closer to his own new humanity. What Sam could find unnerving about that?

As he reached down between their bodies, he delicately patted at the folds of Dean’s jacket until he came to the tell-tale zipper. His stomach fluttered slightly at the warmth that the hunter’s body exuded--Dean had a lovely warmth to him, after all.

“ _ Hmmmnaa _ ,” Dean rumbled, stirring at the angel’s touch. 

He pushed into Casitel’s hand. At first, Castiel thought the older Winchester was disgruntled with being touched and ‘felt up’ (as he would’ve undoubtedly called it). Then Dean groaned, low and loud. It was an unmistakable sound in the compact space of the Impala’s cab, and it was an encouraging sound since Dean had been nearly lifeless for so long. When Castiel looked up at Sam he expected the younger hunter to be relieved...instead Sam was wide-eyed and appeared even more jittery.

“Hurry up, Cas,” Sam rasped, looking anywhere that wasn’t the ex-angel or his brother.

Cas followed the instruction but still didn’t understand Sam’s facial expressions. He unzipped the pocket with greater speed, rummaging to find the keys in the rumpled fabric. Dean was still wriggling slightly, surely responding to the unfamiliar hand on his body. Perhaps, in his disorientation, the hunter thought someone was trying to steal from him. Castiel did not want his friend to worry.

“Please be still Dean, it’s only me,” Castiel said softly, he saw that his words seemed to have some effect on the hunter as Dean’s features smoothed out. However, Castiel’s eyes were drawn to the sleepy smile that suddenly crept onto Dean’s face, his eyes still closed. But...that was not the reaction Castiel had expected.

Without warning, Dean groaned more deeply than before...and began to push his waist into Castiel. Castiel found himself entirely out of his depth at this reaction. Dean had never behaved this way before. It was almost...animalistic, in a way. A startling notion of what was happening started to dawn on the ex-angel and made something low in his abdomen pulse. His hand stilled in the hunter’s pocket. It wasn’t impossible, sure, but Dean couldn’t be sexually arous--

“Lower, baby…” Dean suddenly mumbled, voice still thick with grogginess. His words reverberated off every surface in the car and hit Castiel’s very human, very intrigued body like a tidal wave.

“Oh my God,” Sam’s cheeks stained with a flush and he flopped aorund in the seat to look away from the back of the car entirely, “Cas, just get the freakin’ keys already!”

“I’m trying, Sam, but I can’t find them,” Castiel was unsure what was causing his own voice to become more high pitched, but he was nearly certain it had to do with the fact that Dean’s hip movements had picked up speed and taken on a mesmerizing rhythm, “I just--he keeps... _ thrusting _ , Sam.”

“Oh God,” Sam gave a lowly sigh, like an unwelcome idea had just occurred to him, “they, um...they could also be in the front pocket...of his jeans. Y-You might need to look there…?”

Castiel’s eyes shot up to the rearview mirror. He was unused to feeling so out of his element and he was sure that his own facial expressions weren’t masking his surprise very well. Dean was still undulating against Castiel’s motionless hand. The ex-angel looked down at the hunter again, taking in Dean’s own slight flush and finding himself enthralled with the way a pink tongue darted over the hunter’s lips as his mouth fell open. His wide eyes didn’t move from Dean as he slowly withdrew his hand from the jacket, and dipped back down between them to search of the older Winchester’s denim pockets. 

Almost instantly, Dean let loose a breathtaking hum. The hunter’s hips picked up pace once again, seeming to angle towards Castiel’s now-roaming hand. Castiel could not remember a time he had ever been more fascinated and in awe of human beings. Particularly this beautiful, and sensual human being in his lap. The ex-angel was well aware of what human sexual arousal looked like, but it was one thing to witness it and another entirely to feel its low heat thrumming through his body. And to see that same arousal absolutely  _ illuminate _ on Dean’s freckled features was just--

But this was not the time. 

Dean needed medical care, not Castiel’s unwanted attentions. As Dean’s guardian--with or without his grace--it was Castiel’s job to care for his human charge, not indulge in his own urges. Castiel would need to work hard to avoid temptation when it came to Dean, seeing as the primal noises the hunter was now making had already stirred something in the ex-angel that would definitely need to be analyzed more carefully in the privacy of his bedroom. Or perhaps in one of the shower stalls at the bunker, though he was unsure why that last idea held so much appeal to him at the moment. No, this train of thought was starting to wind back to distraction, and Castiel could not abide by that when Dean needed him to stay clear-headed. Shame started to ooze into his chest once again.

The ex-angel gritted his teeth and dug his hand more desperately between them. Without fail, Dean’s moaning and thrusting increased ten-fold as Castiel’s hand inevitably grazed the searing, thick shape Dean’s pants constrained. Castiel glared daggers at the ceiling of the Impala and desperately tried to tune the hunter out. How did a man--even one as sexually active as Dean--have so much lust-fuelled energy when he had been ‘out cold’ not two minutes before? The hunter seemed only slightly more conscious now, but still whirling in some dreamy state Castiel wished he crawl into and hide. 

“Dean,” Sam tried, face still turned away, free hand slightly outstretched over the back, palm open and waiting for the keys, “that’s, uh, Cas, buddy, not a girl that you’re  _ grinding  _ against.”

Castiel was unsure if Dean was even hearing him, let alone actually cognizant of the words’ meaning. He had not considered the idea that Dean was dreaming about a sexual encounter with a woman, possibly even a previous ‘conquest’, but that was a logically sound assumption. With the way Dean talked about his sexuality and former partners, Castiel realized how silly it was that a small part of him thought that Dean was reacting to his touch alone. Castiel felt an uncomfortably sharp twist in his stomach at the thought. At least, whatever this new discomfort he felt was, it was tamping down the heat that been making it’s way to his groin.

“Ohh  _ Cas _ ...harder, baby…” Dean whined, breath hitching wondorously on Castiel’s name.

The ex-angel froze with his hand halfway into the hunter’s pocket, fingers brushing the keys. A tortuous kind of desire snapped into his body at his human’s words. Dean...knew it was him? Dean...desired Castiel’s touch as well…? If Castiel had thought he was in ‘uncharted territory’ before, he had now just been dropped into the wilderness with nothing but a flashlight and a Swiss Army knife.

And there was another problem.

“Sam...?” The ex-angel pleaded to the rearview mirror.

“Uh, here.”

“The, uh, keys are stuck...can you help me?”

Castiel could tell the younger Winchester had rolled his without needing visual proof, “Um, yeah...hold on.”

Sam then twisted around so that he was leaning over the front seat. Grabbing his brother’s left shoulder with his good arm and pulled him away from Castiel so that there was enough room for Castiel’s other hand to unhook the keys from whatever fabric they'd been caught. It wasn’t until Dean’s body had left his and a slight breeze hit Castiel’s skin did he realize that he had started sweating at some point. Sam grunted, knuckles turning white as he seemed to have to pull harder on his brother’s shoulders to try and stop Dean’s hips from moving so much--but it was ultimately useless. Castiel pulled his hand out as soon as he could like he’d been burned, shoving the keys into the younger Winchester’s hand. Sam let go of Dean’s shoulder, flipping back to the steering wheel and clicking the key into the ignition.

As soon as Sam let him go, the hunter rolled back onto Castiel and his head fell into the crook of the ex-angel’s neck once again. His hips rolled back into Castiel, and he felt his body go stiff at what poked into his lower belly. His eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

“ _ Sam _ ...?” Castiel noticed that his voice had drifted even higher but found he was unable to control that, too, among a dozen other bodily responses he was trying to ward off.

Castiel’s panic seemed to catch Sam’s attention after he’d started the motor. Castiel was sure that his ‘blush’ most likely matched Sam’s which almost seemed to glow from the little bit of light that the moon was shining into the Impala. The ex-angel persisted though, he needed to do something. As an angel he had had the willpower of a thousand men...but as a human, he was unsure if he could resist the urges of his body if something didn’t change--and fast. 

Dean seemed a little more awake from the way his eyelids were starting to flutter.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

“D-Dean’s, um,” Was there a delicate way to put this? “...showing signs of arousal in a...sexual nature--”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Sam laughed, eyes narrowing back on the road. He gulped, and seemed to resign himself, “Yeah, I can see that, Cas. What about it?”

“No, I mean…” Castiel shifted his own lap uncomfortably, “he’s... _ erect _ . How do I make it go away?”

Sam’s eyes immediately scanned over his brother’s body in the mirror, before he scrubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath that he probably hoped would calm him. It only seemed relatively effective.

“Well, Cas, I’ll gun the engine and try to get us back to the bunker as soon as possible....but we gotta move him around as little as possible ‘cause of his head until we get there. So, I guess there’s not much we can do until we get back home. Hopefully... _ that _ will go away now that you aren’t going through his pockets. Just hang on, buddy.”

“Okay…” Castiel was less than hopeful.

Castiel did his best to lean against the back seat and relax. It was about a half hour drive back to the bunker which Castiel was positive would feel ten times longer with Dean’s erection pressing into his stomach--let alone his own excitement beginning to ache in his lap. He would just have to ignore both. They hadn’t gotten a motel since it was such a short distance, something Castiel deeply regretted now. It was one thing to desire his and Dean’s relationship to venture into more intense--and potentially physical--realms now, even though he’d only ever seen Dean desire female persons in that way. But it felt more than a little cruel of the universe to taunt him like this. He was getting a small glimpse at what it would be like to see Dean so open and intimately--the way he might’ve been able to experience if he’d taken up a female vessel instead of Jimmy Novak. He would never know what might’ve been, and he would have to make his peace with that; Dean didn’t love the ex-angel in the same way Castiel loved him...and that was just the way things ‘shook out’. And though Castiel had never directly approached the hunter about this matter, he had seen enough to know what his response would be. And Castiel did not believe for a moment that it was because Dean was somehow void of love, like the hunter seemed to believe of himself. Castiel knew that Dean held more love and tenderness in his soul than any other Castiel had ever known--he simply didn’t have much love in him for Castiel. 

It was best just to leave it alone.

Sam hit the gas harder than he had intended and jolted the car forward before pulling his foot off the pedal, then easing it slowly back down. The sharp movement had knocked Dean and Cas back and forth, inadvertently colliding Dean’s arm with a metal bar in the seat in front of them with a squishy  _ thud _ . Without thinking, Castiel took hold of the hunter’s wayward arm, rubbing over where it had been bumped in the same way he soothed himself when he stubbed his toe.

“Sorry there, Cas,” Sam muttered.

Dean’s eyes lazily began to open at the sensation, letting out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper. When the older Winchester only seemed to burrow his head closer into the crook of Castiel’s neck, the angel let himself relax a little bit. He looked out the window as they took off through the woods on service roads before he felt the Impala’s wheels hit pavement. Since Castiel had first become human again, he had found the night sky daunting. It was something he’d felt the last time he’d had to walk the Earth without his grace, but it was jarring nonetheless. It was just so...big compared to him. It was only looking up at the vast cosmic ceiling that Castiel felt the most human--the most confined not just in his body but in his being. Tonight the sky was a dark denim blue, pin-pricked with stars. The constellations somewhat reminded him of the freckles on his charge’s body and Castiel was pretty positive that Dean would mark that thought as way too “girly”, but the ex-angel didn’t see much use in labels like that. 

In any case, Castiel took stock of where his eons of existence had led him. He was sitting in his human’s most beloved possession, able to finally enjoy its rich leather and gun oil scent now that his senses had pleasantly dulled to human levels. At the wheel, Castiel was in the care and company of his beloved friend who was a protective and loyal soul--someone the ex-angel trusted with his life. In his arms...the Righteous Man. Castiel hadn’t really thought of Dean by that title in many years but it suddenly popped into his mind and the ex-angel felt its familiarity in his bones. At the time he’d been tasked with rescuing the man he now cradled close to him, he never would’ve imagined how profoundly fitting the title truly was. But that all seemed so long ago--even though his time with the Winchesters was hardly even a blip in his millenia of existence. Now--in the car, with Sam driving, and Dean a warm weight against him--the brothers were his whole world; his years didn’t feel like they stretched out forever anymore. Suddenly, the night sky wasn’t so immense anymore.

Lost in thought, Castiel didn’t feel eyelashes flutter against his collarbone or see Dean’s fingers begin to flex as his nerves awakened. The ex-angel nearly jumped in his seat when he felt a finger tap purposefully at his shirt collar. He turned his attention to the glassy-eyed hunter whose oddly dilated pupils were fixed on him. Dean began stroking his finger along the outline of Castiel’s t-shirt. The way Dean’s eyes were blinking, Castiel was almost sure that the older Winchester was having a difficult time making his eyes focus.

“Hello Dean.”

“My angel,” Dean slurred... _ cuddling  _ (there was no better word Castiel could think of) into his shoulder.

“Welcome to the land of the living, man,” Sam said, glancing at the two in the mirror, “You look high as a kite, Dean,” When his brother paid him no mind and kept his laser-focus on the ex-angel, Sam shifted in his seat a little, “Always bitchin’ about  _ Cas _ being in your ‘personal space’ and look at you now…” the younger Winchester muttered.

“I don’t mind,” Castiel responded, even though there hadn’t been a question to begin with, something that he couldn’t name wanted to make it clear that he was in  _ no way  _ averse to Dean being so open with him.

Sam arched a brow at that response and shook his head before returning his eyes to the road. Castiel was unsure what that meant.

When Dean began tracing wayward fingers over the ex-angel’s stubbled neck, Castiel’s gaze shot back down to the hunter. He’d never seen any Winchester look as if they were this close to melting into a relaxed puddle in all the time he’d known the family. It was a surreal kind of happiness that graced the hunter’s features, it was mesmerizing to a degree and Castiel found himself not wanting to look away.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean’s voice was completely void of its usual gruffness, as though he’d swapped vocal chords with his twenty-year-old self.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas reiterated, more than a little confused why they were greeting each other once again.

“Did it hurt, Cas?” Dean murmured. Castiel bent closer, without his angelic hearing he needed to.

“Did what hurt, Dean?” Cas said, catching Sam’s eye in the mirror again.

“Did it hurt…when you fell from  _ Heaven? _ ” Dean whispered, Cas hadn’t realized just how close he’d leaned in until he was jolted in his seat at the sensation of Dean leaning up to nibble at the flesh of his earlobe.

Castiel wanted to answer, half of a correction about the expulsion of angels being both a physically and emotionally harmful process on the tip of his tongue...but he froze instead. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, especially not now that Dean had started lacing the shell of the ex-angel’s ear with tiny kisses. It was the kind of tender act that Castiel would never have thought could spark so much joy within himelf before he’d met Dean...and now he was quite sure he’d die if he was never able to be this intimate with the hunter ever again.

Dean giggled-- _ giggled _ \--at the ex-angel’s lack of response, an awe-inspring rumble that made Castiel’s grip on the hunter become a little tighter. The hunter raised a hand from his chest up to Castiel’s hair and twirled a dark lock from the middle of his forehead in between thick fingers. His dopey expression never phased from pure adoration. 

“You’re  _ soooo _ hot, Cas,” Dean had pulled away but his breath still glided over the ex-angel’s neck; chills rippled throughout his body.

“I...no, my temperature is normal, Dean. Are you alright?” Castiel squinted at his befuddling human.

“Means he thinks you’re...attractive,” Sam sighed, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Well, um...thank you, Dean. As...are...you,” Castiel felt a pleasant fluttery feeling under his ribs again.

“So pretty...like a little angel-puppy dog,” Dean grinned.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Mmmm, s’ good, ‘s good, Cas,” Dean hummed, giving a little reaffirming wiggle.

“That’s good,” Castiel replied, pools of forest green seemed to map out every inch of the ex-angel’s face, “You were unconscious for a very long time. I’m glad it was at least restful.” 

“Good dream, too,” Dean’s grin turned cocky, if not still a little sedated, “You were there.”

“I was?” Castiel felt a new tinge of heat in his cheeks. But...he’d assumed Dean’s dream would’ve involved some sort of sexual fantasy by how his body had been responding. The ex-angel gulped down a wince at the idea of all sorts of phantom lovers’ hands on Dream Dean’s body. Any forms of envy were pointless. Casiel’s feelings were not going to be reciprocated with or without Dean’s fantasies so why begrudge the hunter one of his few comforts, “But…I don’t understand. You were moaning--lewdly, I might add…”

“Mhmm,” Dean nodded coyly.

Castiel’s pulse stumbled into overdrive when he suddenly felt one of the hunter’s hands slip underneath his borrowed canvas jacket. Swirls of warmth radiated out from wherever Dean’s fingers touched him over his t-shirt. The ex-angel’s breath stuttered around a gasp.

“De-ean?”

“Such a good dream, Cas,” the older Winchester rumbled. Castiel felt sweat clam up his palms and forehead as his heart picked up its tempo. Dean’s hand started sliding further under the jacket and across Castiel’s abdomen, “Felt s’ good. You were all smokin’ hot...and  _ lacy _ .”

“Oh, come on!” Sam whined, “Jesus, dude, I’m right here!”

Castiel found he had little interest in making Sam comfortable, not with Dean staring at him with more hunger and desire than Castiel had ever imagined. The ex-angel found he couldn’t talk, if he did his voice would give him away. Of its own accord, the hand that wasn’t supporting Dean’s back hooked a thumb into Dean’s belt loop. Dean’s body moved slow and languidly like grape jelly, but seemed quite aware of Castiel's own bodily response. He slid his hand lower than the angel’s abdomen, never breaking eye contact. Surprisingly-deft fingers untucked the ex-angel’s shirt from his jeans. Castiel felt the brass button of his jeans pop open and delicate Dean’s fingers began to caress in sweeps, dipping in and out of his navel as the muscles underneath jumped minutely. The little bit of tummy-softness that the ex-angel had acquired from his time in diners while on the road during his extended time with the brothers brushed against the hunter’s knuckles and made Castiel shiver.

The newfound silence suddenly registered with Sam and he looked in the mirror but quickly shifted his gaze back to the road--though Castiel barely noticed.

“What the hell? This is even worse than your guys’ usual staring contests,” Sam chuckled awkwardly, but his words had absolutely no effect. Castiel felt searing fingers toy at the edge of his boxers. Dean bit his bottom lip, eyes half lidded and dark. 

“Fuck... _ Cas _ ,” Dean’s voice was thick and curved around a groan, “Wanna touch you so bad--”

“He-Hey! Dean, can you at least keep it in your pants until we get back to the bunker? Seriously! I’m right here,” Sam bemoaned. 

Castiel forced himself to break the hunter’s gaze in order to look at Sam in the mirror. He caught sight of Dean and himself as headlights danced over their features, more illuminated from the busier road they had turned onto. The flashes of brightness showed off just how flushed he was. Had he ever seen his skin so pink in his time as a human? It would figure that Dean would be the one to be the reason his blood vessels would ever dilate this much. 

This was highly inappropriate, though. Not only was he sure Sam did not wish to see his brother and his best friend engage in sexual activities, but Castiel (and surely a clear-headed Dean) did not wish for him to see that either. Castiel opened his mouth to apologize--but that’s all the farther he got.

At the same moment the lusty fog in Castiel’s brain started to clear...Dean lowered his hand all the way down. So instead of an apology, the ex-angel felt his eyes pop open and his words died in his throat. Dean’s hand began to move against the throbbing line in Castiel’s lap. The ex-angel yelped and promptly slumped him back in his seat.

“Cas! Dean, cut that out!” Sam hollered. Castiel felt the Impala jerk forward as the younger Winchester had, no doubt, laid into the accelerator.

Castiel knew this wasn’t an ideal situation by any means. The instances that he had allowed himself to imagine him and Dean getting to be intimate never included poor Sam. Blossoms of pleasure burst behind Castiel’s lids whenever his eyes fluttered shut. Dean’s hand kneaded down and over the ex-angel’s straining erection. The unzipped denim was more than a little annoying as a barrier, but Castiel tilted his head back and moaned, hips twitching up into the Dean’s palm. The hand on his flank ducked under Castiel’s t-shirt and smoothed over his ribs. Perhaps this wasn’t ideal, but Casitel was only human now. He did not have the willpower nor desire to resist the hunter’s ministrations. Dean Winchester had always been Castiel’s weakness. 

“ _ Dean… _ ” Castiel sighed.

“Like that, angel?” Dean smirked, letting his own eyes slip closed.

The radio suddenly blared and Sam tilted the rearview mirror to a different angle.

Castiel did not have much time to focus on Sam when the older Winchester’s teasing fingers dipped under the ex-angel’s boxers. Castiel’s hips reared up under Dean and he bit down on his hand to keep his own animalistic noises from escaping when sure, glorious fingers caressed his erection.

Dean’s eyes slid open again and danced over the sight of Castiel. The ex-angel’s whole body twitched and writhed when the hunter pulled back the sticky cotton of the boxers and began palming the whole, bare length. Dean’s hand sped up at his lowing. Castiel’s fuzzy mind made it increasingly difficult to keep himself and Dean in check enough to shield Sam from some of their more graphic noises. But even Castiel was sure that the wet, squishy sound of Dean’s slick hand tugging his flesh gave them away. Castiel was nothing short of a hot mess under Dean’s touch and it was getting harder to care.

Tight heat coiled low in Castiel’s body and his breathing grew ragged. Although it was an incredible sensation that made his hips involuntarily pressing up, it also made the ex-angel nervous. He had only experienced two orgasms in his eons. Both during his time with April, and both had been the most thrilling and terrifying bodily sensations he’d ever been consumed by. His whole being was winding tighter, he could feel it. Each beautiful glide of the hunter’s thumb over his uncut head on the upstroke only served to ratchet up Castiel’s nerves even more. He logically knew that reaching climax was--to put it mildly--a pleasant experience, but the whole climb to reach that climax was so close to pain that Castiel had to fight his hips from pulling away.

“D-Dean...It’s... _ unnnhhh _ ...”

All Castiel got in return was a flirty, semi-stoned grin that reached up to lust-blown eyes--or was that dilation from the concussion? Castiel’s eyes squeezed tight and he gritted his teeth, muscles taut and almost aching

“Cas…” The ex-angel’s eyes cracked open as the hunter’s hand slowed down slightly but squeezed tighter. Dean licked his lips, nuzzling his nose against the ex-angel’s jaw. He kissed the sensitive skin of Castiel’s corded neck, lips grazing him as he spoke, “Just relax, sunshine.”

Castiel didn’t quite know how to describe what was happening inside him. It was a mounting feeling like all Dean’s touching made Castiel a bullet train headed straight for a wall, but what that wall was, he couldn’t tell. He had only been human for a month at the most and really had no basis for comparison. Well...maybe he did…

“Uh...I--it feels like I am going to climax...but I might have to u-urinate...I am unsure which...?”

Castiel saw Sam shudder out of the corner of his eye and turn the volume of the cassette up even higher.

The hunter giggled and some of Cas’s anxiousness dissolved,“You like how I touch you, angel?” Dean’s sleepy smile was still there despite the motion of his hand which would have anyone else fully awake.

There was a hot, ascending feeling that spiked at the combination of Dean’s words and his gravelly voice. That feeling in Castiel seemed to be pressing just below his skin, like it was going to rip out of him. 

Castiel nodded frantically and the divinely slick strokes of Dean’s hand ratcheted back up to full speed. The ex-angel curled impossibly closer to Dean and a pleading groan echoed in the car.

“ _ Aaaaaahhhhh! Deeeaaaannn! _ ” Sam nearly swerved off the road at Castiel’s sudden scream.

His whole body spasmed at the rush of heat and wonder that exploded in him. He felt himself pulse and spill in Dean’s tender grasp. He was so surprisingly vulnerable and exposed as Dean milked the pleasure out of his body. The ex-angel’s hips jerked up into the hunter’s hand and Castiel whimpered. His length softened and the jolts of electricity radiating out from it turned nearly painful as he dissolved into oversensitivity. Castiel’s hands were welded to the hunter, rocking a little as the last of the throbbing subsided.

Dean tucked the ex-angel back into the boxer briefs, now sticky and painted with dark spots. The hunter never took his eyes off Castiel as he shuddered while Dean kept lightly rubbing him through the wet cotton.

“Easy there, tiger,” Dean giggled.

Dean’s green eyes danced in the moonlight while Castiel’s own were half-lidded and heavy. The hunter let his hand fall away from Castiel’s crotch and he nuzzled into the crook of his neck. A thin layer of sweat had already settled there. The ex-angel’s hands were still white and grasped tightly onto Dean’s hip and shoulder. He felt Dean’s left hand snake out and coax the fingers he had splayed on the hunter’s hip to loosen a little then intertwine with his own.

Castiel felt sated and weightless as his charge nestled against him. He tilted Dean’s warm face back from his neck and met the man’s lips with all the tiredness his slackened muscles could muster. Dean hummed against his mouth, pressing in closer but not ambling toward anything too heated. Castiel was grateful for the respite, though he could feel the hard protrusion of Dean’s own erection straining against his jeans. Castiel was eager to reciprocate once they reached the bunker.

He rested his stubbly cheek against the hunter’s forehead, careful not to put any pressure on his injury. He sighed as the song in the tape deck changed to one Castiel knew was a favorite of the older Winchester. He met Sam’s gaze in the rearview mirror, hazel eyes softer and less disgusted than he had been expecting. With his arms still wrapped around Dean, he let his eyelids droop shut as the rumbly lullaby of the Impala’s engine and low chords of a sweet song lulled him into a rare peace.

\- _**fin -**_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you soooo much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!! Kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


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